marya polikarpovna brought a bow from her son. senior lieutenant dremov.oor for him and rushed to him, grabbed his hands, you are alive, my yegor, healthy! father, come into the hut. yegor dremov sat down on the bench, tired of the very place where he once sat, when his legs didn’t even reach the floor. his mother used to pat him on his curly head and say, eat up... he began to talk about his son, that is, about himself, in detail, how he eats, drinks, never needs anything, is always healthy, cheerful, and so on. short battle, where he participated with his tank, you tell me, it’s scary in war, she interrupted him, looking in his face, with dark eyes that don’t see him, yes, of course, it’s scary, masha, however, is a habit. his father, yegor yegorovich, who had also surrendered over the years, came, his beard was sprinkled with flour, looking at the guest, he stomped on the threshold with broken felt boots, leisurely unwound the ball, took off his sheepskin coat, went up to the table, shook hands, the friend was broad, fair , parent's hand. without asking

marya polikarpovna brought a bow from her son, senior lieutenant dremov.shed to him, grabbed his hands, you are alive, my yegor, healthy. father, come into the hut. yegor dremov sat down on a bench near the table, on the same the place where he once sat, when his legs did not reach the floor, his mother used to stroke his curly head, say eat, orca, he began to talk about his son, that is, about himself, in detail, how he eats, drinks, never needs anything, is always healthy, cheerful , well, briefly the battle where he participated with his tank, you tell him, looking into his face with his dark, unseeing eyes, yes, of course, it’s scary, masha, however, is a habit . his father came, yegor yegorovich, who also gave up over the years, his beard was like flour sprinkled, looking at the guest, he stamped on the threshold with his broken felt boots, slowly unwound his sharpie, took off his sheepskin coat, walked up to the table, shaking hands, ah, the familiar wide, fair, parental hand, without asking, because everything was already there without it it’s clear

marya polikarpovna brought a bow from her son, senior lieutenant dremov.shed to him, grabbed him by the hands, you are alive, my yegor, healthy! father, yes you are go into the hut. yegor dremov sat down on the bench, i’m tired of that the very place where i once sat. when his feet did not yet reach the floor, his mother would stroke his curly head and say eat orca, he began to talk about his son, that is, about himself, in detail, how he eats, drinks, does not suffer need for anything, always healthy, cheerful, well, and briefly about the battles where he participated with his tank , you tell me, it’s scary in war, i interrupted him, look... at his face with his dark, unseeing eyes, yes, of course, it’s scary, masha, however, is a habit; her father, yegor yegorovich, who also gave up his beard over the years, came he was sprinkled with flour as if, looking at the guest, he stomped on the threshold with broken felt boots, slowly unwound his scarf, took off his sheepskin coat, walked up to the table, shook hands. ah, the friend was a broad, fair, parental h

the end of the war, people through death passed, now you can’t stop him, the german is kaput, marya polikarpovnaou didn’t tell him when he would be given leave, he’ll come to us on leave, i haven’t seen him for 3 years, the tea is grown up. he walks with a mustache, this is every day near death, his tea and his voice became rough, but he’ll come, maybe you won’t recognize him, vetanan said, with that familiar comfort that the immortal hour is not forgotten, the march wind whistled over the roof, his father and mother were snoring behind the partition i tossed and turned, sighed, and did not sleep. the lieutenant was lying prone, face in his palms, i really didn’t recognize it, i think, really didn’t admitted, they were hanging on a stretched rope near a washed footcloth, washed boots stood by the door, are you eating pancakes, she asked, he did not answer right away. he took off the stove, put the cloth on them, he tightened his belt and sat down on the bench in a deep voice, tell me, katya malysheva lives in your village, andrei stepanovich malysheva’s daughter, she finished her courses last ye

marya polikarpovna brought a bow from her son. senior lieutenant dremov, then opened the door for himhands, you are alive , my egor, healthy, father, come into the hut, egor dremov sat down on the bench by the table, in the very place where he once sat when his feet didn’t even reach the floor, his mother would stroke his curly head and talk to skinny man, he began to talk about his son, that is, about himself, in detail, how he eats, drinks, does not suffer need for anything, is always healthy, cheerful, and briefly about the battle where he participated with his tank.